


I See Red

by LadyNimue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, F/M, Fix-It, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Slow Burn, Smut, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNimue/pseuds/LadyNimue
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, all Hermione Granger wants to do is finish her N.E.W.T.s and not think about what happened. The Golden Trio is spilt up, struggling to overcome their traumas in their own ways. Harry throws himself into work, Ron secludes himself within his family, and Hermione feels nothing inside. Upon the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, war heroes, ministry officials, and families of the victims gather in the Great Hall for a memorial, but the remaining dark wizards ruin the event by attempting one last coup of the light, causing Harry Potter and George Weasley's deaths. The Ministry of Magic decides tighter restrictions are needed on dark wizards, and makes some changes, creating a world without balance, and a government with too much control. Hermione watches as these changes are made, worried that the wizarding world may be on the path to self destruction. Deciding she has nothing left to lose and everything to gain, Hermione makes the choice to travel back in time with a ritual Harry gave her on the day of his death. She decides to go back to 1942, before Tom Riddle makes his first horcrux, in order to see if he's worth saving.(Will update tags as story continues)
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	I See Red

On one particularly peaceful early morning in early May, Hermione Granger found herself the subject of a particularly somber mood. It was the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts that day. Despite having gone back to the castle for her extra eighth year of schooling, Hermione was not looking forward to the memorial being held at the castle this evening. The students were all given the day off in order to pay their respects, visit with family coming for the memorial, or do whatever they needed to do in order to get through the day. Hermione knew of several older students that started drinking last night and planned to continue all throughout the day until they collapsed. Normally, Hermione would have warned the students of the dangers of creating such habits, but since her year camping in the woods and especially since the battle, Hermione found some of her opinions had changed. Besides, she personally didn’t feel like she had enough energy most days to do much besides her school work. Her side projects such as S.P.E.W. had fallen to the wayside and her personal relationships were struggling.

Ron had broken up with her months ago when she refused to come to Christmas at the Burrow. She had claimed it was because she was too busy studying for her N.E.W.T.s to spend the holiday with her boyfriend’s family, but they both knew she was lying. The honest truth of the situation was that Hermione’s days were constantly filled with people grieving over lost family members or struggling with injuries from the war and that she couldn’t bear to watch the Weasleys go through their first Christmas without Fred. She knew that the normally joyous and warm home would be filled with forced cheerfulness and smiles dropping as soon as they thought no one was looking.

Hermione was fully aware of the fact that she was depressed, but she couldn’t find the energy to care. Everyone was depressed. The teachers at Hogwarts rarely had to assign detentions anymore due to the fact that no one except the first years were getting into any trouble. The rest of the school was too traumatized by the detentions handed out the year before by the Carrows or simply didn’t have the energy to go through with such trivial things like pranks when they had lost a sister or brother, mother or father, aunt, uncle, cousin, friend, etc. in the war. The wizarding world in Great Britain was devastated to put it simply. Everyone had lost someone. Some chose to throw themselves into bettering the world with what remained, such as Harry. Hermione’s best friend has thrown himself head first into Auror training. She had never seen him so dedicated to anything, even the Horcrux hunt. But Harry was determined to protect everyone and make sure no one else died. He had been traumatized by all the people who died in the war, especially the ones who died fighting for the side of the light.

He blamed himself for the deaths of Tonks, Remus, Fred, Dobby, Dumbledore, Snape, and every other student, Auror, or civilian that had fought for the light during the Battle of Hogwarts. Thus, his dedication to his Auror work. He had completed the training in record time. The usual training took three years to complete, and Harry had managed to complete his training just last week, a little less than a year since he began. Hermione was proud of his dedication, but she worried after him when she had the strength to debate if this was truly the best thing for him. He was quick to jump in front of curses meant for other people, try risky spells, go after criminals without backup, and typically put his life on the line for the sake of the light. Hermione knew that Harry had learned something shocking during the Battle of Hogwarts that had led to him sacrificing himself to Voldemort and dying, but he refused to talk about it, even with her. Instead, he pushed himself to his limits in training and distanced himself from her, but especially from Ron. Hermione knew that Harry thought himself responsible for what had happened to Fred, and Ron was too deep in his grief to be able to reassure Harry that he didn’t blame him for his brother’s death. Ron was spending most of his freetime with his family after his Auror training. In fact, he was beginning to fall behind in his training due to all the time he spent with his family. He stayed home whenever the mood struck him, unable to push past the overwhelming grief and trauma. Hermione understood his reaction to a certain extent and almost envied him for his ability to close ranks with his family and isolate himself from the world around him. Hermione didn’t have a family anymore besides for Harry and the Weasleys and even that was on shaky ground. Her parents had been unable to recover their memories once she found them in Australia after the war. Too much time had passed and not even the most talented mind healers in the world had thought there was hope. So Hermione had erased her interference in Monica and Wendall Wilkens new lives and went back to England with yet another crack in her heart filled with ice.

As Hermione let these thoughts float across her mind, she watched the sunrise over the castle grounds. The morning was a pale pink, new and beautiful, but Hermione couldn’t help but be disgusted by the beauty. This would forever be a day representing death and destruction to her. Such beauty greeting her seemed to only be a slap in the face, another way for the universe to tell her that it was going to keep turning without a care of the devastation that had happened only a year before.

Turning away from the window with a cold heart, Hermione began to collect her things. She’d been up for hours, so the only thing needed to get ready was to grab the pink beaded bag she still carried around like a lifeline and her wand, which she’d yet to touch since she had laid down in a worthless attempt to sleep. Clutching those two items to her, Hermione left her dorm room, thankful for the single dorm style accommodations Hogwarts had given to all the 8th years that had returned and made her way out to the castle’s grounds. She was to meet Harry in the Three Broomsticks for breakfast. Hermione was anxious for the meeting. Harry had been vague in his letter yesterday asking for her to meet him, and Hermione knew him well enough to know that there was something else going on besides breakfast and a catch up on such an awful day.

The walk to the village was peaceful and quiet. The morning dew wet the bottom of her robes as she walked through the grounds and the birds chirped prettily from their branches in the trees. Hermione felt as if she didn’t belong, as though her current cold emotions created a black trail of dark and cold wherever she went in the otherwise picturesque scene that the early May morning had created. She knew these feelings were irrational, but she couldn’t help but feel more at home in the shadows nowadays. The dungeons had become her new favourite place to study in peace.

The village of Hogsmeade was quiet that morning. The residents of the village no doubt were affected by the anniversary of death and destruction from the Battle of Hogwarts as well. Where normally they would be carrying on with morning chores, children would be playing in the streets, and animals would be roaming, there was silence. The only sounds came from the sounds of the birds and the occasional sheep bleating from Aberforth’s herd at the Hog’s Head. Secretly, Hermione was glad for the quiet. The one time she had visited the village in the early weeks of the school year, the village had felt chaotic. At Hogwarts, everyone, no matter their participation in the war, had felt the energy the battle had left in the castle. Here, people seemed to have an easier time ignoring the past and putting their troubles aside. Life continued on as normal here. Hermione logically knew that this was normal, but inside she felt anger towards the people who were able to move past the war. She had fought and lost so much for them and yet they were able to carry on as if nothing had happened. As if her sacrifices had been for nothing. She didn’t want the wizarding world’s thanks, but she felt as though it was entirely disrespectful for the world to keep turning as though nothing had happened.

Hermione did her best to brush these thoughts to the side as she approached the old wooden door of the Three Broomsticks and slipped inside. As she glanced about the pub, she noticed how empty it was. Only one booth was occupied, by a pair of wizards seemingly asleep surrounded by empty glasses. The only other occupants of the pub seemed to be the bartender, Madam Rosmerta and Harry, who was standing on the other side of the bar from her and having a hushed conversation with her. Hermione waited a few steps away, only approaching when Rosmerta nodded and pulled a key out of the pocket of her apron before passing it to Harry. He thanked her and turned towards Hermione.

“Hey,” he said, staring awkwardly at her.

“Hi Harry,” Hermione replied softly. She had forgotten how fond she was of Harry. How his awkwardness endeared him to her, and how warm she felt being around him.

He softened hearing her voice, loosening up a bit, “Let’s go upstairs. I got a room from Rosmerta.”

She nodded and followed him up the rickety old steps, unsurprised to have to pick her feet up with a bit of extra force due to the stickiness of the floor. Magic was amazing, but cleaning charms were still needed regularly in order to prevent such things from happening. Hermione didn’t blame Rosmerta for neglecting the stairs and second floor from the much needed cleaning though, today was a day to let such things go. Personally, she was surprised the pub was open.

Harry led her through the door to the smallest private room and closed the door behind them before he proceeded to cast several protective charms around the room to prevent them from being overheard. He then glanced at Hermione, his eyes asking if he missed anything. Hermione felt a bit of her usual spirits rising at the glance, flicking her wand to add a single charm to the door and then giving Harry an approving nod. Harry managed a small smile back at her, before he straightened in the chair he had dropped himself into and wiped any warmth from his face.

“I found something during the last raid,” he started seriousness pouring into every fiber of his being, making Hermione straighten as well, “I requested to work with our international Aurors as I mentioned in my last letter. I wanted to judge my skills and get criticism from people who wouldn’t worship me simply because I’m Harry Potter, and so I managed to get onto a mission in the Hunan province of China. We raided a huge mansion of the Beisongs.”

Hermione sucked in a breath, the Beisongs were the oldest known family with magic in existence. Rumor was that they could trace their line all the way back to the first ever wizard which they claimed to have come into existence around 4000 BCE. Hermione wasn’t sure she believed this to be true considering no one was even sure how exactly wixen came to exist, but she was still in awe of such a long lineage.

Seeing she knew who he was talking about, Harry continued, “Aurors in China had received reports of the branch of the Beisongs that lived in the Hunan province were involved in some very dark and even more dangerous ritual magic that they were going to conduct on Beltane. So we raided the mansion last week. I happened to come across a book that I shouldn’t have looked in, but it was like the magic of the book was calling to me, and the magic seemed harmless, so I looked.”

Here, Harry paused again, “I found a ritual on the page that the book wanted me to read regarding time magic. Hermione, they invented and successfully tested a time ritual that can send the user back in time up to 100 years.”

“Harry,” Hermione cautiously said, “That’s impossible. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not possible. I studied up on time magic in third year when I had the time turner and everything said that it was impossible to travel back in time farther than a year.”

Not looking surprised by Hermione’s doubt, Harry dug through his robes and pulled out an ancient looking book and slid it across the table to her. Barely breathing and heart pounding in fear, Hermione cautiously opened the book.

“Page 134,” Harry muttered.

Hermione slowly turned to the page, her heart skipping a beat at the heading on the top of the page, simply saying, “Time Travel”. She scanned the page, freezing when she finished. At first glance, the ritual did look like it would work. There was nothing there to contradict anything she had researched besides the fact that every text she had ever read had stated time travel was absolutely impossible farther than a year into the past.

“It’ll work,” Harry stated, seeing the expression on her face.

Hermione was more cautious however, granted for more than one reason, “It might work. I don’t know enough to be sure. But Harry, it would be extremely dangerous. And even if you managed to time travel, what would you change? You have no idea what the repercussions might be. You could come back to a completely different world. You could create a paradox and cause yourself to never have existed in the first place. You could fail and make the situation worse.”

Her words seem to pass right through him, “I figured those would be the dangers. But Hermione, we’ve lost so much. If there’s even a chance that we could fix it so we didn’t have to lose anyone, don’t we owe it to both them and the people they left behind to try?”

She hesitated and Harry knew he had won, “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll research it. And you’re going to let me. I’m not going to do a single thing until I’ve completed every single bit of research into the subject as possible and found as much information on the past as possible. We’re going to look into everything, and if at the end, I say it’s too dangerous then that’s it, you have to drop it and then we burn this book and scatter the ashes.”

“Deal,” Harry agreed, looking as though he was excited for the first time since 6th year.

The rest of their visit was filled attempting to plan. Harry insisted on figuring out all the details immediately, but they ended up spending the day debating back and forth the best time to go back to. Harry wanted to go back far enough to be able to stop even the first wizarding war from occurring. Hermione worried about the repercussions of going back that far though and insisted they should go back to the 24th of October in 1981, exactly a week before his parents were killed, giving them time to collect and destroy all of Voldemort’s horcruxes before he attempted to kill Lily and James Potter. Sooner than they realized, it was four p.m. and they had to leave in order to attend the memorial at five in the Great Hall. They parted ways outside the Three Broomsticks, both needing to change into their dress robes, and promised to continue with their discussion after the memorial.

The memorial was just as horrible as Hermione imagined it would be. The Great Hall was filled to the brim with Ministry officials, Prophet and even international reporters, and grieving families. Everyone who had fought on the side of the light in the Battle of Hogwarts and the families of the victims were invited to the memorial as well. Hermione did her best to hide along the shadows in the edges of the Hall, hoping with everything in her that a reporter didn’t manage to corner her when she least expected it. She had managed to catch Harry’s eye across the Hall as he spoke with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic. He gave her a determined nod before turning his attention back to his conversation with the Minister. Hermione had also spotted the Weasley family grouped together in another corner of the Great Hall. The Weasley matriarch, Molly Weasley, was crying silently as she clutched her husband Arthur’s hand. Surrounding them were her children. Percy was whispering reassuring words in his mother’s ear, attempting to keep his own tears at bay despite looking like he was about to snap at any second. Hermione had heard him talk to his brother Charlie before about how guilty he felt regarding Fred’s death and knew that he was trying to do anything he could to make up for his previous actions towards his family. Ron was hovering over his family, looking as though he was standing guard against the world in order to protect his family. Bill and Fleur stood off to the side, talking quietly with Charlie. Ginny was glancing longingly in Harry’s direction. George however, was nowhere to be seen. Hermione wasn’t surprised. If he had managed to show up, she suspected he’d be so drunk he would be practically unconscious, just like he had been this year on his birthday, Easter, Christmas, and every other holiday or day of importance, plus most other days in the week since Fred’s death.

Hermione knew why Harry was so determined to travel back in time, and if she were honest with herself, it wasn’t the impossibilities and risks associated with time traveling so far back that were stopping her. In all reality, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. To hope for a better future. To hope that any changes would be for the better. Her gut told her that if they went through this impossible plan that she would lose everything she had left. Hermione couldn’t risk the few things she had left, and maybe that was selfish of her, but she knew it would kill her if she lost anymore.

As she hid in her corner of the room avoiding everyone, Hermione observed the other people at the memorial. She was holding onto her emotions by a centimeter after the conversation she had with Harry earlier, her mind spinning with the possibilities and risks and worst possible outcomes. And as if sensing the dark direction of her thoughts, the mood in the room dropped with the entrance of the Malfoy family. Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco Malfoy glided into the room, pretending they didn’t see the glares and angry faces directed their way.

The Malfoy family had been a hot topic since the Battle. Harry had explained to the Wizengamot that he wouldn’t have survived to defeat Voldemort without Narcissa Malfoy’s lie to the Dark Lord. He also pleaded on Draco’s behalf, stating that the young Malfoy heir had tossed him his wand after his resurrection and that he had attempted to shield him from Voldemort during Easter when they were captured in his family’s manor. Hermione testified on his behalf as well, deciding to trust Harry’s instincts on the matter. With their words, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy managed to escape prison, the only family member being sentenced to Azkaban ending up being Lucius Malfoy. Many people saw this as a great injustice, blaming the Malfoy family for their dead loved ones, and thus they became a common scapegoat for the people. Hermione thought it was ridiculous. To her, it was clear that Narcissa was just the wife of the real criminal and Draco had just been trying to please and protect his parents. However, she didn’t feel bad for the glares they received by the rest of the wizarding world. As far as she was concerned, they deserved to feel some consequences of their actions.

Only moments after the Malfoys appeared, Kingsley appeared in front of the stage that had been temporarily set up where the head table normally resided. He placed a sonorus charm on his throat, holding his wand to the spot while speaking.

“Witches and Wizards of the United Kingdom, today we have gathered to mourn our friends and family lost during the Battle of Hogwarts and celebrate the first anniversary of the end of the second Wizarding War. We’d like to start this event off with a few moments of silence to reflect on our losses and send our respects to the brave wixen that fell in the Battle this day last year,” Kingsley spoke solemnly.

There were a few brief moments of silence, everyone taking the moment seriously and waiting patiently for the Minister’s speech to continue.

“Now, we have a few guest speakers-” The Minister was cut off by the staggering feeling of the wards being dropped suddenly.

\A few people screamed, memories of last year flashing in their minds, while others immediately dropped into action. Hermione was out of Great Hall and onto the castle grounds in record time, wand up and eyes scanning the lawns in front of her, the only person faster than her being Harry. She turned to Harry, meeting his eyes and opening her mouth to ask him a question, only to see a flash of something out of the corner of her eye coming from the ground right underneath Harry. A force threw her back several meters, her ears ringing and the world broken around her. All she saw was broken pieces of earth, dust and dirt in turning the air black around her, and curses flying through the air all around her.

Hermione sat up dizzily, searching desperately for Harry, her heart froze in her chest as she noticed his wand sitting a meter in front of her on the ground.

“Harry!” she croaked horsley.

“Hermione!” cried a voice she could barely make out.

Within a second, Ron appeared out of the slowly settling dirt floating in the air and cast a shield to protect them as he reached her, “Are you okay?”

She blinked at him, taking a moment to understand his question and realizing she probably had a concussion and at least temporary hearing loss from the blast, “Harry?”

Ron’s face crumpled, “Hermione-”

“No,” she whispered, “Ron, no. We have to look for him! He’s probably hurt, but he’s okay! Harry’s okay!”

Attempting to stand up in order to start her search, she allowed Ron to help her when her legs threatened to give out beneath her. He threw her arm over his shoulders and held her close, helping her quickly back to castle, “Hermione. I was several meters away from the blast, but I had a clear view of what happened. Harry is gone. He’s dead, Hermione. The blast, it...it tore him to pieces, Hermione. I thought you were dead too considering how close you were.”

Her legs threatened to completely give out, she would have dropped to the ground, clearly unfit to continue on with her life, much less fight if it wasn’t for Ron’s strong arms wrapped around her.

“You can’t give up,” he told her harshly as they slipped through the doors and into the Great Hall where people were clearly hiding and setting up a makeshift hospital, “Harry wouldn’t want you to give up. He’d do anything for you to keep on living.”

Knowing his words were the truth, Hermione forced her thoughts of dying out of her head. Rage filled her instead, the need to avenge Harry giving her strength. She pushed Ron off her as gently as she could manage, “I have to go out there. I have to stop them.”

“You need to get checked out first, Hermione,” Ron reminded her, “That blast had to have done some damage to you with how close you were to it. You were knocked back at least five meters and landed on some hard debris. You can’t help anyone if you get taken out by the first person to fight you.”

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him where he could shove his concern, but a wail of anguish cut her off. They turned, seeing Molly and Arthur Weasley bent over the disformed body of George. Molly was raving in her grief, Arthur standing to the side, staring at the broken form of his son and looking dead to the world surrounding him. Ron sagged beside her, clearly not prepared for the sight. Hermione placed her hand on Ron’s arm, “Go".

She gave him a small push forward, knowing from the last time that Ron would need the prompting before he could move in the face of such a shock. Hermione herself was numb to the loss, her only thought being that of envy. George was reunited with his twin while everyone else was left behind with the losses. She doubted George minded the trade of his life for being reunited with his brother. In fact, Hermione wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he had intentionally been cut down by a curse he could have blocked. The thought that he was better off than the rest of them ran through her head, along with her envy at his ability to reunite with his lost loved ones.

Heart hardening, Hermione headed for the castle grounds once again, this time with revenge in her heart and determination in her eyes.


End file.
